


maybe with a cup of coffee

by machellex



Series: this is how it goes [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Human K-2SO, fake dating au continuation, i'm sorry for the multitude of italics and parentheses (but not really)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10043507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machellex/pseuds/machellex
Summary: When she promised Cassian she owed him, here were the things she had expected him to request:1. a cup of coffee2. a bottle of beer3. rake his front lawn (she’s not sure why, but it had sounded like a normal request at the time)4. to be perfectly candid, she really, really believed in that cup of coffee5. at the very least, not for her to be his date to some swanky awards ceremony for cops6. for heaven’s sake, he wasn’t even receiving the goddamn award--Or:After Cassian helps prevent Jyn's arrest, he cashes in her IOU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> tbh any police knowledge comes from my favorite tv show b99 so i really don’t know much if at all i had to google if a medal of valor would deserve a banquet (i’m still not sure on this answer)
> 
> also the more i write this au, the more OC they become and i’m sorry ~~but not sorry enough~~
> 
> ~~i should probably proofread this but i'm too lazy @.@~~

When she promised Cassian she owed him, here were the things she had expected him to request:

  1. a cup of coffee
  2. a bottle of beer
  3. rake his front lawn (she’s not sure _why_ , but it had sounded like a normal request at the time)
  4. to be perfectly candid, she really, really believed in that cup of coffee
  5. at the very least, not for her to be his date to some swanky awards ceremony for cops
  6. for heaven’s sake, he wasn’t even receiving the goddamn award



“You said you owe me.”

They’re sitting on the curb of a local coffee shop next to the diner she works at. She’s not sure how Cassian manages to find her (yes, she does, but she’s trying to pretend Cassian is a normal civilian and not one with too much access to information about her life), but he’s got two cups of coffee in hand when he shows up at the end of her shift with a questioned favor in his eyes.

“I do,” she sniffs because she _does_. And she wants to get it over with as soon as possible so that he can’t hold anything against her from here on out, but—“I thought you might want a cup of coffee instead.”

He looks miffed. Bemused, mainly. “A cup of coffee? I prevented you from getting arrested.” He pauses momentarily. “ _A_ _cup of coffee?_ ”

Well, now that he’s saying it aloud, she realizes how ridiculous that sounds—how very obvious that one favor is generously greater than the other, and a cup of coffee can’t possibly appease the notion of prevented arrest but—

“It’s what people would normally want!” she huffs. Then she’s narrowing her eyes in frustration, a wavering uncertainty at the edge of her voice. The idea of being his date—for a police ceremony, no less—leaves a rather distasteful feeling running through her body. She doesn’t have great experience with either. “You really want me to be your date? I’m not cut out for classy things.”

This is all genuine honesty speaking in benefits for Cassian himself. 

She highly doubts he would want _her_ as a date. The last “classy” thing Jyn vaguely recalls attending is Chirrut and Baze’s wedding, and that was years ago. Although thinking back on that one moment also helps her remember that she had caused a _slight_ ruckus during the reception (by _slight_ , she means that she had gotten into an argument with the neighboring reception for admonishing her very lovable gay guardians for being, well, gay, and a couple of drinks later had her throwing some “unnecessary” [they were very necessary, thank you very much, though Baze had thought otherwise] tipsy tantrums and fists—throw in a pair of cops, and well.) 

Like she said, she’s not one for classy parties.

A furrow deepens between his brows as he tries to mull over his response. She has a feeling she won’t like it very much, regardless of what comes out from the tip of his tongue, tries to distract herself with the coffee instead. “The thing is—Kay fully expects you to be there. As does, unfortunately, my whole precinct,” he murmurs. He licks his lips as he gives her a side-glance. “He—ah… has spread the news faster than I could manage.”

“About me?”

“More specifically, about my criminal girlfriend not good enough for me,” he mutters, his words slow and reluctant. “And Kay is ready to gloat if I don’t bring you along.”

“I am not a criminal,” she growls. 

“You’ve had quite a few misdemeanors,” he reminds her dryly. “I checked.”

“On my juvenile record,” she sniffs, leaning forward until her torso is pressed up against her knees, feet kicking the rocks below her. “I haven’t done anything worth being written up since I turned sixteen.” When Cassian hums with disapproval, she amends her words. “Okay, fine—and that one incident at my guardians’ wedding when I was twenty-two, but that was years ago.” There’s a long pause. “Okay, _fine—_ except for trying to TP your neighbor’s house—I mean, your house.”

“Which is why,” he says slowly with a slight smile painted across his lips, “you’ll be my girlfriend for the evening of the awards ceremony. And we’ll call it even.”

“But—”

“I’ll pick you up at 6 on Saturday.”

This is, with great misfortune, how Jyn Erso finds herself borrowing a dress far too fancy for her liking (Leia says it suits her well, and she should do it more often, but she says this without meeting her gaze and a quirk at her lips, and Jyn _knows_ she’s lying through her teeth—they can both agree she’s much better suited for joggers and combat boots) and miserably on the arms of one Cassian Andor in a room full of two too many cops (she is willing to deal with Cassian though no more).

“I haven’t worn heels in a really long time,” she says stiffly through gritted teeth when they’re walking through the entrance. Her shoulders tense when she catches sight of the dangling lights and gowns and suits just slightly too glorious for her and almost causes Cassian to stumble beside her. She lets out an exhale that sounds a bit shakier than she’d hope. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“You look fine,” he assures her, and this he says meeting her gaze. Jyn would consider herself a pretty astounding lie detector and is sure she could detect liars in her sleep, but she can’t tell with Cassian. Though, she wouldn’t be surprised at his superb skill considering he _is_ a cop, but she tries not to think that far. She turns away from him with slight wariness, when he presses forward with a sigh. “Really, Jyn.”

She looks up at him with scrunched brows before nodding with resignation. She’s not sure if he’s saying it because he means it or because he’s hoping to make her feel an ounce more comfortable, but—she’ll take what she can get and can acknowledge where credit is due. 

“Thanks,” she concedes with a hesitant murmur. 

He leans back with a twinkle in his eyes. “Jyn Erso? Thanking me? I never imagined the day—”

“Don’t push it,” she says dryly.

“Oh, look, it is Jyn Erso,” and the voice behind her she immediately recognizes because it makes her shoulders tense and her spine straighten. Jyn closes her eyes and prays to herself—restrains herself, really—that she doesn’t turn around and get arrested for assaulting an officer. She’s sure Cassian would not appreciate it, so she carefully shifts her body with a long sigh and a purse of her lips. “I sincerely believed the probability of you attending the awards ceremony was very low. Your attendance was very much unexpected, and yet here you are.”

Jyn grimaces. “Hello, Kay.”

She feels a warm hand press on the small of her back—she’s pretty sure it’s a warning to not do anything stupid, which she just _might_ if Kay says much else. “Kay,” Cassian says with a knowing, slightly reprimanding glare. There’s a silent conversation between them though she can’t quite figure out what it is until—

“Right,” Kay says stiffly. “I will be pleasant with you, Jyn Erso. Cassian said I had to.”

She bites the gum of her cheeks and refrains from rolling her eyes. “Wonderful.”

Kay is still staring at her for a moment too long before he shakes his head. “I simply do not understand the appeal of—”

“ _Kay_.”

“Is honesty not pleasant?”

“No.” And with that, Cassian maneuvers her away from his partner before saying, “Jyn and I will go elsewhere before…” 

He trails off, shaking his head, and Kay’s about to ask him for the rest of his sentence when Cassian proceeds to move her along to the bar. She’s sure if he had continued, he would have said something along the lines of _before she kills you_. She’s pleased he knows her so well already but then thinks twice if that’s really a good thing at all. 

Her stomach churns at the thought. 

“Sorry for Kay. He’s…,” he trails off quietly, pulling her out of her daze. She blinks and looks up as he orders them two glasses of champagne from the bartender. He lifts a brow at her and hands her a flute, knuckles pressing into her hand. “He’s… difficult. He means well though. You learn to love him.”

“I’m sure.” She’s not, really. She doesn’t say so. 

He grins wryly as he takes a sip from his flute. “You’re not, but that’s okay.”

Jyn frowns as he turns to the side to tip the bartender, and an uncomfortable knot begins to settle in her stomach. She doesn’t really like this feeling of him simply _knowing_ how she thinks before she has a chance to say otherwise. She doesn’t like being easily read, she doesn’t. Especially if said person who can read her is a… cop. 

A cop who is not even her boyfriend

A cop who is not even her friend.

For fuck’s sake.

His warm hand returns to the small of her back, and she blinks back to reality. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she lies. 

Cassian raises a brow but doesn’t say much else, and she appreciates the small gesture. He’s guiding her to a round table where many more faces sit (one with hard angry lines, and she’s definitely sure the two of them will not get along), and she feels her body stiffen. She’s not sure if she can handle much conversation past what she’s already had to deal with. His hand curls gently, a firm hold at her waist. “Relax. They’re nothing like Kay. Well,” he pauses, tilting his head, “maybe Draven is a little difficult. But there’s nothing to worry about.”

“You say this, but you forget what kind of person I am,” she mutters.

He smiles. “I haven’t, really,” and that simply sends another chill down her spine that she does not appreciate in the slightest. “Just let me do the talking.”

One favor, she reminds herself, and their pretend relationship is over. 

No worries after this, none. At least, no worries about Cassian knowing one fact too many. 

Or reading her one gesture too well.

“Captain Andor, nice of you to join us,” a lady in white says. There’s an elegance to her that Jyn can’t describe, but she’s also firm and quite… _regal_ , is really the best way she can put it. She’s not sure if she wants to sit next to her and feel as incompetent as she already does. 

“Commissioner Mothma,” Cassian greets as he leans in to shake her hand, and Jyn simply wants to slink away because _of course_ he’d bring her to the table of commissioners. She’s not even sure what a commissioner does, but it sounds relatively high up there. Along with _captain?_ Since when was Cassian a goddamn captain? “Deputy Commissioner Draven, Detective Rook.” He nods his head towards the last one at the table with a smile and a clap on the shoulder. “Congratulations again on your Medal of Valor, Detective.”

Detective Rook’s slightly anxious and rather young face brightens at the compliment, and Jyn already knows he’s the one she’d prefer to stick to in terms of friendly conversation. “Thank you, Captain.” 

She feels Cassian’s hand again, and he turns to nod towards her. “This is my partner, Jyn Erso.”

She almost snorts. _Partner_. What a way to describe her. More like a scheming partner, although she’s not sure if she’d ever want to be put on the same level as Kay, his _other_ partner. When she feels him press against her skin, Jyn blinks. Then with a nod of encouragement from Cassian, steps forward to shake everyone’s hands with a small though incredibly tight smile. “Nice to meet you.”

And she says it so clearly, she’s rather impressed with herself. 

She hopes he doesn’t ask for more as he pulls her seat out and gestures for her to sit. She thanks heaven it’s next to Detective Rook and not Commissioner Mothma. He leans carefully into her ear, fingers brushing against bare skin, and she feels her shoulders tense. “Let me know if you feel uncomfortable. We can leave when you want.”

Jyn pulls away and blinks at him in surprise, and there’s a genuine softness to his features, a sort of worry she’s not quite used to. She finds herself smiling, grateful, though a deal _is_ a deal. She promised she’d owe him, so she will—to the best of her ability, anyway—follow through with it. 

She is not, however, pleased that Kay later joins them at the table though tries not to show it too much. 

“I was surprised to hear the Captain have a girlfriend,” Mothma says from across the table later during dinner. She smiles warmly at her, so Jyn forces herself not to grow defensive. “He’s a very private man.”

“So he is,” she murmurs, more to herself than anything though throws Commissioner Mothma a quick smile when she feels Cassian’s quiet glances. When she looks up to meet his gaze, there’s a question in his eyes— _you okay_? And she nods because she is.

“So private that even I was not aware,” Kay mutters beside Cassian.

Jyn would very much like to throw a fork at him but doesn’t. 

“When did you guys start dating?” Bodhi—she learns is his first name—asks eagerly as he cuts into his food. The man beside Bodhi—Draven, was it?—seems to groan at the idea of dinner conversation revolving around Cassian and Jyn’s love life, and Jyn really can’t agree more. Maybe she should have sat next to Draven instead, but the hardness to his eyes makes her think twice on that thought. 

“April,” she says as Cassian says “June.” Goddammit. 

“We met in April, started dating in June,” he rushes to say, and she feels a wave of relief. She really should just let him do the talking. 

“How did you guys meet?” And Bodhi’s turned to her now, so she knows he’s directly talking to her, but—

“How did we—” Jyn stabs her steak and glares at it, slightly chewing on her bottom lip as her brain runs into panic mode, scurrying in a frenzy for some story— _something_. She’s never been good at relationships, and has no idea what would cause for a good introduction—

“She’s a waitress,” Cassian says, his fingers gently at her back again, brushing against bare skin, “at the local diner—Rogue One, you guys know it.” He turns to her then, a gaze she is very unfamiliar with burning right through her. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her after our first encounter, so I came back a week later and requested for her to have a cup of coffee with me.”

“More like, you brought the cup of coffee to me after my shift and wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she mutters to herself, and she swears both Cassian and Bodhi hear it, and they _grin_. Bodhi seems to have stars or hearts or _something_ in his eyes, and she wonders if he’s an inner romantic. 

“How sweet,” Mothma says with a smile. “I haven’t seen Captain Andor this way in a while.”

Jyn narrows her eyes curiously. “In _what_ way?”

“Like a lovesick fool,” is what Draven spits out. “You know, feelings get in the way of work.”

“Hush, Draven,” Mothma scolds with narrowed eyes. “Let Captain Andor and Jyn Erso be.”

“Feelings do get in the way of field work,” Kay agrees miserably. 

“This conversation is getting to be too much for me,” Jyn mutters and downs her flute of champagne because everything is just rather _too much_. She can hear somewhere in the background that Draven grunts in agreement. Maybe this is what Cassian meant by discomfort, and she’s wondering if she should say something when—

“A _waitress_ —” Kay blanches. “Of all jobs—”

“Kay,” Cassian says sharply. 

“She’s a _criminal_ , Cassian,” he argues. 

“I am _not_ a criminal.” Jyn grits her teeth, eyes and tone sharp. She’s got about half a mind to really throw the fork after all. “A few misdemeanors as a juvenile does not make me a criminal.”

“This, coming from the person who trespassed on a cop’s house to throw urinal paper—”

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought her,” Cassian says with a sigh, his fingers running against his scruff. 

“No, you shouldn’t have. I had extremely advised you against it,” Kay scoffs. Jyn freezes at his words, begins to tumble them in her mind while everyone at the table shifts with discomfort. The topic at hand is all personal matters now, and no one ever wants to intervene in that sort of thing. Jyn blinks, running the words through her head again and again because Cassian had _said_ (forced her to believe, really) that Kay was pressuring him to take her, and Bodhi almost coughs to excuse himself when Cassian interrupts him.

“For the last time, Jyn and I are dating—it wasn’t—”

Jyn turns on him sharply with a furrowed, curious, suspicious glance. “He _advised_ you against it?”

Cassian meets her gaze, but doesn’t say a word. Fantastic. Really fucking fantastic.

She should have just bought him a goddamn cup of coffee. 

“Of course I had advised against him bringing a criminal to a banquet specifically catered to police units, considering you have no place here,” Kay sniffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. Jyn feels a strange feeling burst into her body, and she doesn’t like it, not at all. “I had not expected for him to defy my advice, especially when I had offered him the statistics of you thoroughly not excelling in such state of affairs—”

Jyn pushes herself out of her seat, tosses her napkin to the side of her plate with a sigh. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Cassian stands, attempts to touch her. “Jyn.”

She jerks away, meets his stare. There’s something there—she’s not sure _what_ , but she doesn’t know if she likes it, whatever it is. “I told you this was a bad idea,” she says quietly. When he tries to reach for her, she shakes her head. “It’s okay. Stay for Bodhi. I’ll take a cab home.”

“Jyn—”

“Look, I don’t belong here, okay? We both knew that.” 

And then Jyn’s off, and she’s thanking the heavens that they haven’t started any kind of ceremony, and she can walk out as if she’s off to the bathroom in peace without a single stare. Well, excluding the stares from her table, but _other_ than them. Somewhere in the distance, she can hear Cassian going off on Kay, and something nags at her, telling her he’s not too far behind.

She hopes she’s wrong but doesn’t really doubt that instinct feeling. 

He finds her seconds later although it’s not hard.

She didn’t move very far from the vicinity of the banquet hall (only far enough to make it outside until she’s sitting on the curb of the parking lot), and she hadn’t even gathered enough nerves to call the cab. She’s still in some state of uncertainty or shock or confusion or a combination of all three. She’s just not sure what _happened,_ but she’s sure of his footsteps, and she’s sure they’re behind her when the sound comes to a standstill. 

Jyn leans forward, presses her elbows on her knees. “What are you waiting for? Just sit.”

He hesitates, as if he does, she may just whisk herself away. It’s a good thought, she muses to herself, a rather accurate one of her. Then he does, nestling himself beside her, hands gathered between his knees. 

They sit in silence for a moment, and she thinks she needed this amidst the chaos inside. It’s… refreshing. 

Finally, “Why did you bring me here?” 

He doesn’t hesitate in his response. “Because I wanted to.”

She turns to him with a raised brow. “Couldn’t a coffee have sufficed after all?”

A wry grin dances across his lips. “It could have, maybe.”

“But?”

He shrugs, his gaze careful as he looks at her. “It didn’t.” He leans back then, a sigh at his lips, fingers splaying across the concrete. “You would have said no,” he admits, eyes searching hers, jaws slightly locked. “If I had asked, you would have said no.”

She doesn’t disagree because she knows herself. She would have. And she hates that he knows that too.

“If I had let you buy me a cup of coffee, it wouldn’t have been on my terms—at a coffee shop, sitting or talking. You would have walked next door to the cafe beside your work place, proceeded to buy me a cup to-go, then leave the vicinity.” Cassian tilts his head, shaking just slightly before lifting his gaze to look at her. She grimaces at his gaze, hates that he’s right, _hates_ it. “Am I wrong?”

Jyn turns away to glare at the pebbles on the floor and wishes she could say _yes, you are fucking wrong, you don’t know me_. She doesn’t because she _can’t_. So she doesn’t say anything. 

With great misfortune, Cassian does know her. At least, slightly. At least, can read her well. 

She wonders if she’s as easy to read as he makes it out to be or if it’s just Cassian. 

She wants to believe it’s just Cassian. 

In the back of her mind, she can hear Chirrut mockingly laughing at her. _Stop reading so much into everything. You’re quite a stick in the mud, you know. All is as the Force wills it, my child._

Jyn closes her eyes for a moment because—well, because even though she hates that Cassian knows too much, can read her too well, it’s… been a while since she’s had that from somebody other than her guardians and Leia. It’s almost nice. She hates it, but she doesn’t want it to disappear either.

She hates that she’s a breathing contradiction. 

“I don’t owe you anymore,” she finally slips, her tone firm, no room for questions. 

His tone is sardonic. “No, you don’t.” He pauses momentarily, then in a resigned voice, “Do you want me to take you home?”

She lifts her chin, stares forward at the multitude of colored cars idly sitting in the parking lot. Then, very cautiously, almost as if she’s unsure she should say it all, but she does because she should, “I want to get coffee.” 

And then she’s up and headed towards his car before he has a chance to disagree—and Force, she hopes he doesn’t because then she’s not sure how to react, and it’s taken her this much to even get _somewhere_. 

Cassian catches up to her in no time, a confused furrow between his brows. But there’s something else in his eyes—hope, she thinks. She thinks that’s okay, hope. “You don’t owe me anymore.”

She lifts her chin and dares him to object, eyes sharp. “I want to get coffee.”

There’s a moment as he stares at her, the wrinkles dark in his forehead and under his eyes. Then he’s smiling slowly, wide, before he’s opening his passenger door for her. 

“Okay. Coffee.” 

—

“Not… to-go coffee, right?”

“Cassian, if you don’t get in the car, Force help me—”

“Coffee,” he affirms. 

**Author's Note:**

> the end is a bonus but unsure if it is too OC to be a part of this pretend canon lmao  
> find me on tumblr here [@ma-chelle](http://ma-chelle.tumblr.com/)


End file.
